


Oh, Things Aren't So Bad, When Your Camp Counselor's Suddenly Your Dad

by Morningstar_Winchester



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alex is a prick, I love you ppl, I promise, Max is a smol bean, Max needs love, Max will get love, Max's dad is a prick, Multi, Sarah is innocent I promise, Self Harm, The Dadvid is strong with this one, Trigger Warnings, and innocent, don't hate me, everything will turn out okay, mentions of physical/emotional/sexual assault and abuse, who is six year old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morningstar_Winchester/pseuds/Morningstar_Winchester





	Oh, Things Aren't So Bad, When Your Camp Counselor's Suddenly Your Dad

It wasn't until Max was six that he realized his life was a lot less normal than he'd previously assumed it had been.

Yes, he saw other kids. Other six year olds with their families. Happy, smiling adults, praising their children. The kids laughing, smiling, unafraid to show their affection, unafraid to speak, unafraid of the adults they were with. Happy families, together, loving each other. Max had honestly always assumed they were just doing it wrong. Nobody ever told him otherwise, and nobody ever told him how his father treated him was wrong. Nobody ever told him how his Uncle, Alex treated him was wrong.

Although, to be fair, they didn't quite know how Max was treated. It wasn't like the six year old was open about that particular subject. It wasn't like he was going to willingly spill out everything to some adult. He was smarter than that, wasn't he? If he told, it would get straight back to his father. And  _that_ was the  _last_ thing Max needed.

The child sighed, rolling over in his bed and squinting at his alarm clock, the bright red letters flashing back at him violently.  _7:00._ Good, his parents were out. His father, Ryan, worked Saturdays, and his mother, Sarah, often went out for long periods of time and didn't return until the end of the day, per Ryan's request. Or rather, order. Probably because Sarah didn't quite approve of anything his father did to the poor kid, so Ryan sent her away while Max and him got some… Father-son bonding.

But that didn't happen until six in the evening on Saturdays, when his father got home. So Max had most of the day to himself. The boy silently sat up, allowing his blanket to spill into his lap and silently reaching up to rub his eyes with a sigh. Saturday was his favorite day of the week, no doubt about that. The kid pulled himself out of the bed rather reluctantly, stretching slightly. He grabbed a few clothes and headed to the bathroom to change, briefly checking his reflection.

The kid had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. It wasn't that he tried to stay up - It was that by the time Ryan was finished beating the kid senseless, it was around midnight. His parents went to bed at exactly 12:00, leaving Max awake, alone, hurt, and positively terrified. Not exactly good conditions to sleep in. Max usually just laid in his bed until he couldn't feel the pain anymore, then shut his eyes and tried to sleep. The nightmares hardly fazed him anymore, so the pain was really the only thing that held him hostage in the waking world.

Max sighed, looking down and gently poking at one of the newer bruises on his wrist from where Ryan had grabbed him a little too tightly. Compared to the rest of him, it hardly hurt. The kid gently rolled his arm over, studying the faded scars. If his parents ever noticed, they didn't care. Max wasn't surprised - Ryan cut him a new one almost every day anyway, why care if he did it himself?

After changing into a new shirt and pants, Max grabbed the bandages from below the sink, settling himself on the edge of the tub and beginning to wrap them around one arm, slow and steady. If he planned on going out today, it was best to hide any visible wounds. Why? Max didn't know, he just knew it was something his parents had him do when they took him out, so he just assumed it was a normal thing.

It was funny, how he kept assuming anything about his parents was normal.

He finished on one arm easily, making sure the bandages were nice and tight before moving to the other arm. This one hurt just a little bit more than the other, the scars a little fresher. Max winced slightly, but otherwise gave no reaction to the pain. He let his mind wander for a moment, making sure to slip back into reality every once in a while to make sure he wasn't messing the bandages up. He could always go hang out with his best friend, Kyle. The ten year old tolerated him more than anyone else, and he was usually free on Saturdays. But he didn't wake up until a few hours after the kid, so Max would have to keep himself busy until 10:00.

Max finished up the wraps and tucked the bandages back where they belonged, shutting the light off and heading out of the bathroom and downstairs. He stopped on the last step, glancing around in dismay. His father had gone off in the middle of the night, yelling and breaking things. Max had unfortunately been one of those things, so he hadn't gotten to see the true extent of the damage the house was in. A few framed photos had fallen off the wall and cracked, leaving glass shattered all over the floor. A few walls had holes and dents where they'd been punched, a small stand in the hallway was knocked over.

"Keeping myself busy shouldn't be hard at all," Max mumbled, reluctantly stepping down. He made his way around the glass and to the kitchen, which luckily was unharmed. He eyed the coffee maker longingly, but instead crossed to the other side of the room and grabbed a broom before turning and heading back out. He wasn't stupid - If he didn't clean this up now, Ryan would come home later to a fucked-up house. And he wouldn't be pleased. And who, who would he take that anger out on?

 _Only his best punching bag, of course._ Max gritted his teeth, already working to clean up the glass. He tried not to feel too much bitterness toward his father, tried not to get angry. Getting angry and talking back usually only led to more pain. Max had realized rather quickly that playing it passive was the best way to go.

The kid couldn't help but wonder, as he emptied the glass into the trash can with a frown, when his life had gotten so complicated. It was a weird thought, too. Because his life had been this way for as long as he could remember. The only thing that changed was Max. He got smarter, wiser. Realized what things set Ryan off. Realized what things made the pain bearable, realized what to do, what to say. It had been easy to learn. Of course the kid knew he probably still had a long way to go, much more to actually understand and realize. But for now he was content with what he knew.

He was content with his life, somewhat. It was what he knew, what he was comfortable with. And it wasn't like he understood how bad it really was. To him, this whole thing was absolutely normal. He had a normal life. At least, as far as he was concerned. Sarah wasn't too bad for him - She was about as kind as Ryan allowed her to be. Ryan was the worst out of all of them. He was the abusive one. Alex wasn't quite abusive.

He didn't hit Max. But he did make the child uncomfortable. The way he looked at him, talked to him, touched him. He was always  _cheerful_. Always  _smiling_. He was probably the weirdest adult Max had ever met. Max didn't exactly trust him, but he wasn't afraid of him. Not the way he was afraid of other adults, at least. The boy paused for a second to glance around, frowning at the holes in the walls. There wasn't anything he could do about them, was there?

 _Doesn't matter. It's just a few more smacks, you can take it._ Max chided himself, making sure the rest of the house was decent before heading back to the kitchen, putting the broom back and checking the time.  _8:25._ The kid nodded, satisfied, and turned his gaze toward the coffee maker briefly. Then his mint green gaze slid toward the sink, and he just barely bit back a groan.

_Dishes._

_Right, this is fine._ Just another day in the Woods household. Max sighed and grabbed a chair as he walked toward the sink. Coffee could wait. As much as he wanted - and honestly needed it - These things had to be done. He climbed up and turned the water on silently, grabbing the dish sponge and one of the plates from the sink before getting to work. Once more, he zoned out as he often did when he did stuff like this.

 _I really need a break._ The kid stared down at the sponge and plate in his hands, tightening his grip on the sponge briefly and watching the soap and water slowly fizz and drip down. The six year old swallowed, closing his eyes tightly for a few seconds.  _What kind of life am I living?_ He gritted his teeth slightly and frowned, but tried not to dwell on it too much. It was the life he'd always had. It was fine, this was fine.

He took his time on the dishes, making sure they were all clean and dry before climbing up to put them into the cabinet. He checked the clock again. 9:00. Time flies when you're doing chores, huh? The kid looked down at the bandages for a moment. They were wet. He'd have to change them. "No point right now," he mumbled, taking a deep breath and jumping down from the cabinet. "Laundry. Last thing I gotta do." He didn't look at the coffee maker this time as he left the room, rubbing his eyes with a frown.

Luckily enough it wasn't the hardest thing on the chores list, and he had everything in the washer within just a few minutes. He headed back to the bathroom to change the bandages, trying not to think about how it had been a complete waste of time to put them on so early. He went silent, shoving the drenched bandages down into the bottom of the trash can and looking down at his arms. He was silent for quite some time, his mint green gaze flickering from his arms to the roll of bandages he'd pulled out of the cabinet. Eventually he slid the bandages back and instead pulled himself up onto the counter of the sink, reaching up and popping open another cabinet, rummaging through it until he found something in particular. A little pocket knife.

He toyed with it for a moment, shutting the cabinet silently and turning to push the door shut with his foot. Nobody was home, but Max didn't want to take the chance of his father getting off early and coming in to see  _this,_ or something. He turned back, shifting a little so he was leaning over the sink. The six year old sat there silently for a moment, still debating. He tugged the knife open, gently rolling it around in his palm briefly.

Then, he clenched his fist around the handle part, squeezed his eyes shut, and let the blade sink into the soft flesh on his arm.

Max had to admit he was feeling a lot better when he left the bathroom. It was a good break from the emotional pain; The soft aching in his arms distracted him. He grabbed a jacket from his room as he headed down the hall, shrugging into it and heading back to the kitchen. He probably had time for a quick snack before he headed out. It was 10:15 now - Kyle was probably awake. The six year old reached up to grab a water bottle from the counter, prying the fridge open.

He didn't really eat much, only when his father allowed him. And that was rare. Of course, they did feed him - The poor kid would starve to death if they didn't. And he snuck food while they were gone, and sometimes in the middle of the night if he was hungry enough. He'd only got caught once - And was especially careful not to get caught again after.

The fridge was empty, save for a few beers and one lonely packet of cheese.

"Today is not my day," Max groaned, shutting the door and resting his head against it for a moment. So on top of everything else, he had to go to the store and get food, bring it back, and make something quick to eat before he headed to Kyle's. By that time… The kid shook his head.  _No, this is fine. I've got time. Come on._ So he turned and headed back to his room, rummaging through his stuff until he found the money he'd stashed away for this specific reason. He counted through it, mumbling to himself before finally, finally heading back downstairs and out of the house.

It was a hot day and it wasn't even summer. Yet, at least. Max knew it might as well be summer with how close it was anyway. The kid slipped down the sidewalk, shrinking down into himself subconsciously as he walked past the other people. He shied away from anyone to got too close, anyone who looked at him or even turned his way. He didn't meet the gazes of any other kids, shoving his hands into his pockets and continuing on his way.

Max let his gaze fall downcast as he walked, keeping his head down. He hated how terrified he was of everything, of everyone. He tried so hard to act somewhat normal with other people, but today had already been an awful day. And it was still  _early_. This was going to be a very, very bad day - The kid could feel it.  _So much for Saturdays being my favorite day._ The kid thought, swallowing hard.  _Nah, maybe it'll turn around, Maxwell. Stay at least somewhat positive, nobody ever got anywhere with a negative attit-_

The thoughts cut off when he bumped into someone. The kid went stumbling, but the man he'd ran into remained unaffected. Max was sent reeling, his mind whirling desperately and his expression turning to one of pure horror as he stepped back, almost about to fall. A pale hand shot out quickly to grab his wrist, though, holding him steady.

Max wasn't sure if it was the pain from the sore scars on his wrist or just being touched in general, but a low whimper broke through his teeth before he could stop himself. He took in a shaky gasp, taking a few seconds to regain some composure, as well as trying to set his thoughts straight, before shaking his head quickly and looking up.

He was met with a pair of green eyes so similar to his mother's that he actually had to stare at the man for a moment and make sure he  _wasn't_ Sarah. No, his hair was much too short. The exact same shade of red, though. The exact same color eyes. Max's mouth opened slightly, but snapped shut again almost instantly.

"Whoa there, kiddo," the man chuckled, letting him go. Max pulled back and took a few steps away, the six year old still trying to understand. "Be a little more careful there, don't hurt yourself. Are you okay?"

"Oh," the kid mumbled, gazing at the stranger. He seemed relatively nice, but he did kind of remind him of Alex, much to Max's dismay. Yet something was different about him, too. He felt more… comfortable with this guy than he ever had with Alex. That warm smile wasn't overly forced - It was just enough to make Max relax a little. "Y- Yes sir, I'm alright," he muttered. "Um… Thanks- Sorry I… I didn't mean to, uh, bump into you,"

"It's okay." The man assured, ruffling the kid's hair. It was something Alex often did. Max nearly shuddered at the contact. He still wasn't used to being touched without any type of pain or discomfort coming along with it. "I think we can both agree neither of us were watching where we were going."

"Ah… Yeah," Max cleared his throat, offering him a hesitant little smile, which was returned easily. Again, he looked so much like Sarah that it was just uncanny. "Y- You look like my mom." Oh, and there goes the poor kid's filter. He winced sharply, covering his mouth with one hand.

"Do I?" The man laughed a bit. "Should I take that as a compliment?" Max paused and nodded quickly, still covering his mouth, and the man laughed again. "Well, heck, thanks, kiddo." He beamed, kneeling down in front of the six year old. "Is your mom with you right now?"

"Mm-mm," Max shook his head, reluctantly pulling his hand back down to clarify, "she's at work." He twisted his feet against the sidewalk for a moment, gazing at the man curiously. He seemed genuine for the most part. The smile, the caring, sweet look in his eyes… Max wasn't really a guarded person. He didn't really have trust issues. Yes, he was wary with his father and Alex, and other adults he tended to stray away from if he could, but he was just six. It wasn't hard to gain his trust.

"Oh," the man nodded in understanding. "So are you with your dad, then?"

"No, he's at work, too," Max said quietly, looking down and twisting his hand into the sleeve of his jacket with a small frown. There was silence for a moment, and Max glanced up to see the man mirroring his expression, only with a little more confusion on his face than Max had.

"So you're… Alone?" The man prompted after a few seconds, frowning and sweeping his gaze around at the other people walking by. Max studied him for a moment, a little bit uneasy now, but he just shook his head and answered anyway.

"Yeah. It's okay, though," he said quickly, taking a deep breath. "I just have to get something from the store and go home."  _And then go to my best friend's house and smoke weed with him and try to forget the awful fucking day I'm already having,_ the kid added silently with a frown, shaking his head once more.

"You sure you'll be alright?" The man prompted, turning back to him. The concern in his eyes was genuine, and for a while it left Max speechless, not used to seeing the emotion. He honestly kind of savored it. It was… Sweet. It made him feel a lot more at ease. The kid relaxed a little more, giving a much more genuine, soft smile and nodding his head.

"Mhm, I do this every day," Max assured, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn. The man blinked at him once, then shook his head and smiled again, standing up. He reached out to ruffle the kid's hair again, and this time, it got a smile out of the boy.

"Well, if you say so. You have a good day, kiddo. Campe diem!" The man said warmly before moving past him and continuing on his way. Max's expression darkened with confusion at those last words, staring ahead for a moment.  _Campe diem._ Eventually, his curiosity got the best of him and he turned.

"Wait, what- What does campe diem mean?" He honestly hated himself for not knowing and having to  _ask_ of all things, but he was curious. The man paused and turned back, green eyes lighting up slightly and a bright grin appearing on his face. Once more, Max flashed back to Sarah.

"It's my motto. Or- Well, Camp Campbell's motto, sorry," the man chuckled wistfully. "It means seize the day, which is what I do every day! Boy, I can't wait 'til summer comes around again and I can go back to working at camp…" He trailed off, blinking. Max took in the new information silently.  _Camp. Isn't that where Kyle went for the summer that one time? He said he'd hated it, but then again Kyle hates almost everything but weed…_

"...What's Camp Campbell?"

"It's a summer camp!" The man almost  _squealed_  - Max would have laughed if it wasn't so shocking. He went still, staring at the adult through wide, disbelieving eyes as the man continued eagerly. "I work there as a camp counselor with my friend, Gwen, and our boss, Mr. Cameron Campbell! He runs the place. Basically it's where any kid can go for any activity! We have such a wide range of things to do, and boy is it fun!"

Max shook his head in disbelief for a moment, dumbfounded. "I… Yeah, that- That does sound kind of fun…"  _More fun than being stuck here, at least…_ This Camp Campbell didn't sound so bad. And Max honestly wouldn't mind it if this guy was there - The kid was warming up to him pretty quickly.

"It is!" The man suddenly pulled something out of his pocket, a small pamphlet, which was handed to the kid quickly. Max stepped back slightly, but reached out and took it without hesitation, a curious look crossing his face. "You should tell your parents about it and get them to send you, kiddo! I'm sure you'd love it! It's not too late to sign up!"

"Huh." Max mumbled, studying the pamphlet curiously for a moment. He wasn't sure how Ryan would react, but Sarah would probably be okay with sending him… Or he could just sign himself up. "Okay, well, um… Thank you," he said softly, glancing up briefly. "It sounds like fun,"

"It is," the man said again, waving with a smile. "Have a good day, kiddo. I hope to see you at camp this summer!" With that he turned and bounced off, a skip in his step. Max watched him go, completely bewildered.

 _He is the weirdest adult I've ever met, officially._ The kid turned away, flipping the pamphlet open and studying it for a moment, taking in everything it said. Camp Campbell. It sounded fun. It sounded like a chance to get away from the hell he was in. It sounded like a break, which the poor six year old needed now more than ever. He ran his thumb across the paper for a moment, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. Should he risk his parents not approving? Or just sign himself up for the hell of it? Of course he'd have to tell them eventually, but…

His grip on the pamphlet tightened momentarily, his mint green eyes widening as he stared down for a moment.

Max didn't know much. He was smart for his age, yes, but he was only six. There was a lot about this world he had to figure out. A lot he had to realize.

But he did know one thing.

He really, really,  _really_ wanted to go to Camp Campbell.

And god damn it, he was going to try.


End file.
